Iraqi Prime Minister Nouri al-Maliki must be pretty unhappy with the United States. Facing an existential threat to his country and a political threat to his leadership, Maliki has to contend at the same time with a disenchanted patron in Washington responding much more weakly than he prefers to the former challenge and not at all to the latter (if not offering tacit encouragement to some of Maliki’s political rivals). So, predictably, he is turning elsewhere for support and to limit his dependence on American help. Enter Russia, Iran, and Syria.

Moscow likely enjoys the opportunity to provide Su-25 ground attack fighters—even if they are used and aging aircraft—at a time when U.S. officials are perversely stating that the ongoing instability may further delay Iraq’s receipt of U.S. F-16 fighters (and when Maliki has openly expressed frustration with slow U.S. deliveries, saying that Iraq was “deluded”). In addition to shipping the planes, Russia has also sent technicians, who must presumably start by assembling the jets, readying them to fly, and offering a refresher course to Iraqi pilots who probably have not flown Su-25s for some time.

Notwithstanding a variety of differences in priorities and preferences, Russia, Iran and Syria all oppose the Sunni extremists seeking to bring Maliki down and support a unified Iraq. Likewise, while all are constrained by limited capabilities, they face few domestic obstacles in aiding Maliki’s government—political, legal or otherwise—and are much closer to Iraq than the United States, which makes the crisis more important for them. Distance has also helped Iran and Syria to act fairly quickly. It is still unclear whether the three governments are acting with any coordination, however. If so, it is probably general and strategic rather than specific and tactical—at least so far.

What is perhaps bizarre to contemplate for most Americans is that the combined Russian, Iranian and Syrian broadly align with U.S. goals—though Maliki’s unwillingness to change his sectarian approach to governance creates bigger problems in Washington than any of the other three capitals and there are other differences as well. Also notable is the clear reluctance of America’s treaty partners to get involved. British Prime Minister David Cameron has argued in the House of Commons that the instability in Iraq could “come back and hit us at home” if ignored, but has so far fallen well short of suggesting a military role for the United Kingdom. German Chancellor Angela Merkel has sidestepped the crisis, helpfully saying that the United States has a “special responsibility” in Iraq but apparently seeing little role for Berlin (which was skeptical from the beginning). Though rhetorically hawkish on Ukraine, NATO Secretary-General Anders Fogh Rasmussen sees no role for the Alliance in Iraq.

The Iraq crisis is, of course, a particular test for President Barack Obama and his efforts to articulate a new national security doctrine for the United States (which less charitable observers could alternatively see as an effort to establish a veneer of intellectual legitimacy for his desire to concentrate on “nation-building at home” without too many foreign distractions).

Speaking at the commencement ceremony at West Point earlier this year, Mr. Obama said that “the United States will use military force, unilaterally if necessary, when our core interests demand it—when our people are threatened, when our livelihoods are at stake, when the security of our allies is in danger,” he said. “On the other hand,” he continued, “when issues of global concern do not pose a direct threat to the United States, when such issues are at stake—when crises arise that stir our conscience or push the world in a more dangerous direction but do not directly threaten us—then the threshold for military action must be higher. In such circumstances, we should not go it alone. Instead, we must mobilize allies and partners to take collective action.”